The Bride
by Naerry-Owl
Summary: She really did not want to marry. Well – not him.


Looking out of the carriage window, Ithinya went still a little paler than she had already been. The tower. How nice. She really did not want to leave the quite safe vehicle that was coming to a halt just now. She really did not want to marry. Well – not _him_.

She could almost smell the behated understanding smile of her father next to her. She would hit him if he patted her knee… Luckily for his own health, he did not.

Long ago, Ithinya had stopped to count the arguments she had had with her parents about marrying a prince. Yeah, how really great it definitely had to be to marry a Doranian bastard! Espacially for her, a girl of the lower part of civilisation – an Olk. Never could she remember to have hated Doranians more than today. And now exactly this should be the most positive thing that could be arranged for her people. Thank you, Barl.

In the end, Ithinya was not able to make the carriage drive on – on through the dirty city, through the woods, directly into the grand, dark sea to kill herself and her father right with her, if it could not be avoided.

A servant opened the door and her smiling father climbed out, his arms stretched widely and warmly to greet the ugly, long-haired, arrogant man who unexpectedly honoured them with his personal presence. Ithinya crushed the cloth of her awful, heavy, sky blue dress and followed the man that usually pretended to be her father. Right now he was pretending to be Lurs best citizen. She rolled her eyes in disgust and then put onto her face the sweetest expression she could manage.

Another thing which Ithinya had also given up to count was the times she had heard stories about Prince Gar Torvig. The cripple. The failed magician. The handicapped heir of the throne. The boy everybody had always felt sorry for. Of all things she had never wanted to get to know this guy she felt so strange an antipathy for. He was a few years younger than her. In her eyes another good reason to forget the marriage.

Obviously doing his very best to appear dignified, Gar slowly walked down the grey steps that led to his dark blue tower – the place where Ithinya would be forced to live in from now on.

Although she was definitely the wrong person to decide whether he looked handsome or not, she did not like his face. He wore his hair bound back to a long pony-tail, his feet covered by brownish boots, a dusty blue jacket – which he seemed to have fit with her own clothing – over an immaculate white shirt.

He bowed, smiling. Ithinya forced down the need to through up, smiled back and dropped a little curtsey herself. In his eyes she could see the intention to reach for her hand but she quickly folded her fingers tightly in front of her belly to refuse his undone courtesy. If he realized, he showed no sign of doing so which Ithinya was very thankful for.

"I am honoured to meet you.", Gar said, looking at her old, foolish father. His voice was astonishingly nice to hear, sounding a little like dark blue velvet.

"So am I, Your Highness.", Ithinya's father replied. She had to concentrate hard on not rolling her eyes again. That slimy old idiot! All that was missing was him crawling on the floor before the second-hand prince.

Ithinya was completely unable to repeat the words of her father and so she just nodded in feigned agreement. Again Gar did not seem to notice – or did not want to notice. Whatever, again she was thankful. A frown creased her forehead at her own thoughts. She did feel gratitude? Now what was this craziness going to be about?

Ignoring herself, she had to follow the prince and his creepy household into the stony coolness of for the inevitable words of her father, Ithinya knew would come, she took a seat on a silk-covered sofa in the saloon with the green curtains where tea and biscuits were served at a little marble table. She did not take either of them.

"Your Highness." The man, who had never been Ithinya's father, began. "May I be so rude to leave You and Your future wife? I mean…" He started to stammer. If she would lie so shamelessly she would also stammer. "I am really sorry, Your Highness. My wife… she is ill. I… I have to go, you know…"

"You will not join the wedding?", Gar interrupted, both astonished and a little anoyed.

Ithinya's father changed his face into the most painful expression she had ever seen in it. "Your Highness, I _beg_ You to forgive me, I just can't!"

Raising an eyebrow, Gar shrugged. "It is not me You should ask for forgiveness." He did not look at her, but Ithinya could hardly supress a gasp. She had not expected the prince to say even one word of such unselfishness. She had not wanted him to. Her father showed quite a similar expression. For a few moments he did not know what he sould answer. Finally he nodded, bowed, turned and left the room without even one more word. Now that was… unusual. Not the fact that her father had not apologized to her, but that he disobeyed something that was almost a Doranian order. Maybe he had interpreted Gar's words differently. Now the prince just shook his head and gave Ithinya back his full attention. In her opinion he could have looked after her father a few more hours. But of course he did not do her the favour.

"Is Your mother ill?", he asked doubtedly.

Ithinya did not hesitate. "Yes." She tried to look sad. When it came to lying, her father was a really good teacher. The look on Gar's face showed that he was not sure at all, if he should believe her. It did not matter, either. She would never tell him the truth. Although she did not think very much of reputation, it was too embarrassing to have a father like that. A father who was afraid of his future son-in-law to not take his difficult, not so very beautiful daughter. A father who, for that reason, ran away before the wedding of his child to give his future son-in-law no chance to give back his bride. Yes, she knew her father's motives all too well. It did not hurt anymore. But it was embarrassing. Ithinya did not like the prince and did not care whatever he might think of her – but it _still_ was embarrassing!

She smiled. He did, too; leaned back on his chair and crossed his legs non-chalantly, sipping at a cup of steaming tea. He changed the subject – what Ithinya was thankful for.

"Well", he said, "Now You have been forced to marry me." His smile showed no sign of self-consciousness, but she believed to see it behind the green of his eyes. "Ithinya, is it not?" She nodded. "Your hair is not black." He had noticed? The common Olk's hair was black. Hers was not. Of course, it was also dark, but of a strange brown she had not seen twice yet. Elsewise she did not know where this colour came from. She did not even want to know. She shrugged. "Is this going to be a handicap, Mylord?", she asked. If Gar sent her away, she would be able to flee both her marriage and her father…

But that bloody prince kept on smiling and shook his head again. "Of course not." Of course. He was all manner and behaviour. Ithinya felt her stomach twist and her mouth go dry with sickness. She wondered what he really thought of her. Did he have the same opinion of her as most men had? Not appealing? Not attractive? She supressed a sigh. Yes, she knew it.

But maybe his thoughts were different. Maybe he knew what it meant to be rejected. She almost laughed out loud. After all, he was still a prince! He had power, he was loved by his people – well, by most of it.

"The preparations for our wedding are almost finished.", he continued and forced Ithinya out of her thoughts of self-pity. She was thankful for that. "We are going to be married in less than two days, I suppose." Two days?! Now she really sighed, shruged. "The earlier the better." She bit her lip. She had not meant to say that. "Sorry." She mumbled. "I did not mean…"

To Ithinya's surprise, Gar chuckled quietly. "I see – You really love me, my fiancée." By the prickling feeling in her cheeks and the heat in her face, Ithinya thought she must have got a little red. By the amused expression around the prince's eyes, her suspicion was confirmed.

She chose to mock him a little further. Gar did not seem to be an all too earnest man and definitely not a stern one. "Of course I do.", she repeated, grinning, stood up and quickly stepped in front of him, where she bent down to touch his lips with hers for one tiny second. Giggling she moved away again and almost danced towards the door. "If Your servants would be so kind to show me my room, Your Highness?"

The prince was clearly taken by surprise by Ihtinya's little kiss. It took him almost a minute to put himself together again and to slowly stand up and follow her to the door. "I will not let the honour of presenting You Your new home be taken away from me by a servant!" She could not tell wether his hurt was played or not but she wasted no more time on the subject and bowed deeply to him. "This is so much more than I deserve, Your Highness.", she teased. His eyebrow rose, but he laughed a little and went on through the grand entrance hall and up the stairs.

While she was following him, she wondered about the intentions of her mind. Was she exchanging jokings with him because she hated him or because she liked him? What kind of question this was… Such a difficult one. When she had arrived only an hour ago, she actually had hated him. Now she was not so sure. Now that she had finally met the everywhere discussed subject of both derision and admiration, she did not know, how she felt about him. He seemed to be as much a victim as she was. At least, according to their marriage. Ithinya had never felt the need to find out how much pride there was inside of her. Could she revise her opinion of the Prince of Lur without humiliating herself? She would just have to find out…

And, after all, what did he think of her? Surprised, she realized that she did not ask this question for the first time. As if it did matter…

"Here You are.", Gar finally said, kicking her out of her speculations once more. He was opening a huge, two-winged door to an even huger, bright room. This time Ithinya could not help gasping. What the hell…?! The expression_ room_ was as big an understatement as calling Gar an Olkish beggar boy. She had the feeling that his father's whole house would have fit into this… hall. Yes, of course now this was an exaggeration. But… she loved it. Beaming like a mother at the birth of her first child she entered the room, not quite believing that this should belong to her. "You are fooling me, Your Highness…", she breathed. He laughed. "No. It's Yours." He _meant_ it! He really did… Suddenly she desperately wanted to marry him. Ithinya had never been superficial – until now. This was so beautiful! The windows which had thrice the size of her body, half covered with curtains of heavy, dark green velvet. A carpet which seemed so expensive that she did not dare to set a foot on it. One door at each side which clearly led to more rooms she did not even try to imagine. A big, massive table, chairs, sofas, cushions, paintings, chandeliers from tiny to huge. She turned, trying to look into his emerald eyes that where focused somewhere around the place she was standing at…

"I…" She did not know what to say. What about: Let us marry right now? Give me your palace? Somehow Ithinya did not think he would like that very much.

"I wonder, if You like it.", he said, suddenly grinnig broadly. For a moment she pursed her lips, but then smiled. "I do, Mylord." In fact, she liked it way to much. She wanted to stay, which was something she had never planned for. "I think…" Her face wore a pensive expression. "With Your home being so beautiful and all that… I could even bear marrying You." She did not grin even though her lips tried very hard to do so. Actually, Gar did. "And this is exactly the reason why I brought You here." He left the room, closing the door behind him by mentioning: "I hope to see you at dinner." Before Ithinya could respond, he was gone. She was standing in the middle of her new property, staring questioningly at the still swinging handle. Oh, Barl! What had _that _been about? Quickly she decided that she did not want to find out, believing to know quite well that it would confuse her to her bones, if she thought about his words for just one more second.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to the door at her right and slowly entered the room beyond. She should not have done. It was the bedroom – but without a bed. Instead there was a whole camp which covered about the complete half of the floor. Blankets and millions of cushions in every colour that could be imagined which already looked so seductively soft – let alone what they would feel like…The curtains on the windows were the same as in the neighbour room, as was the carpet. But the lights were different. Here the candles were covered with colourful glass to paint the walls in red, orange, violet, blue, green, yellow. Ithinya longed so badly to see the effect at night. Unfortunately it was only early afternoon. Her eyes wandered to a big wardrobe at her right. Curiously she approached the wooden furniture and put all her strengh in opening one of the heavy doors. Not for the first time this day, she gasped. The wardrobe was full of clothing! How could they have known what size she wore? It was not as if she had the figure of the average woman… But the dresses in there seemed big enough to fit her body. Breathlessly she took a few steps back and let herself fall down into the cushions of her new bed. It seemed to be too much. How could she, an Olkish girl, take such presents? It almost seemed as if the prince wanted to bribe his bride. What a funny thought. How ridiculous! Why should a _Doranian prince_ have to bribe an Olk? It should be the other way round. Maybe it was. Maybe her father had payed Gar such an immense price for marrying her that he simply had to do something with all the money. She did not know. She did not even want to. It seemed all too perfect.

After a while of just sitting and marvelling, Ithinya went back through the saloon and opened the door at the opposite site. Of course, there was the bathroom. She had no more words left for describing such beauty and perfection even in her own head, so she only tried to not fall unconscious. Deciding that she had to put off her boots before entering the completely marble chamber, her bare feet patted lightly across the cool floor. The make-up in front of the mirror would have been enough for five women, just as the bath would have been big enough for all of those five to lie in.

Through the window Ithinya could see the sun slowly making her way toward the horizon and she realized Gar had not told her when dinner would be served. So it would be better if she started to prepare. She sat down in front of the mirror, watching herself. No. Besides everything she had always been told and shown, she did not believe she was so very ugly. Not exactly a beauty, maybe, but, maybe, worth a second glance. She took a few light blue and green bands out of a basket to bind her hair, painted her grey eyes in the same colours and then left the bathroom to return to the one with the cushion camp. The wardrobe was still half-opened. Trying to look like a misty morning in spring, she chose a dress which fitted the silk on her head, being dew covered grass and sky enlightening sunrise. Rustling silk all around her body she left her little realm to go down to the saloon.

Gar was sitting on a couch at a window, legs crossed, a heavy book on his lap, a candle at his side. He did not even notice when Ithinya entered the room. She stepped right in front of him, bending a bit forward as if she would look at his pages. She did not. "Interesting?" She grinned as he jumped a little. Smiling apologetically and quickly getting up, putting the book aside, there was also regret in his eyes and she almost wished she had not disturbed him.

"Forgive me.", he said, taking her words right out of her mouth but she stayed silent, just shrugged and smiled. "Please, follow me. You must be hungry." With a graceful gesture he pointed to an open door and in the same movement offered his right arm to her. Ithinya lightly took it and let him lead her to the food covered table. They sat down opposite each other and immediately, servants came in to put meat and vegetables onto their plates, to fill their glasses with a wine that looked like pure blood. Smiling at her, he lifted his cup and she followed his example. They drank, then they began to eat. Ithinya had to be very careful not to sigh contetedly with every bite. It tasted so wonderful! She had not eaten anything similar in all her life.

"You are looking beautiful.", he suddenly said without looking up, putting a carrot between his teeth. Her fork clattered at the free fall and she almost suffocated on her half-swallowed piece of steak. What made it even worse was her desperately trying to hide her almost-killing surprise to him. Obviously she did not manage to do so very well for a few moments after he had spoken, he looked up at her and frowned. "Are You all right?" She nodded, forcing a smile onto her lips and wiping the tears out of her eyes. Finally she was able to breathe again. "Yes.", she reassured him. "I am fine." Which was not at all the truth. What the hell had this crazy man just said to her?

The crazy man did not let himself be distracted any further and returned to his meal. Ithinya stared at him, wondering what, in Barl's holy name, that guy was _thinking_!

Slowly she calmed down, bringing her mind back to reason. Her eyes still rested on him, watching him eat, while her own food was gradually cooling on her plate.

"You do not have to be nice to my, Mylord.", she finally said. Now he also put his fork down, slowly, calmly. And his emerald eyes rose to meet her dust coloured ones.

So this was the point of all this sickening politeness. Ithinya suddenly felt the want of her already eaten meal to crawl up her throat again. She held it down. "I have to marry You, haven't I? Well: I am forced to do that. You are forced to do that. We do not have to like each other. We do not have to be nice to each other." She stood up, tearing her napkin from her lap and throwing it onto the table. "We do not even have to see each other.", she spit at him, turned and hurried out of the dining room. Probably he would throw her out now. Hopefully. The only things she would regret were the wealth she would have to leave behind and the thoughts she had wasted by thinking about him. Before she was halfway through the saloon, she heard his fast steps behind her.

"Mylady!" Her eyes widened and she spun around glaring at him. "Do not call me that!", she snapped. She know all too well that she had never been a lady and would never ever be one. And she knew he knew it, too. "Stop mocking me, cripple!"

Ithinya froze. As did Gar. She had not wanted to say that. Well… actually, she _had_ wanted to, but she should have known better than to do so. Was she suddenly tired of living?

The former excusing eyes of the prince went cold and hard as stone. They simply stared at each other. For such a very long time that Ithinya finally thought they would not move again until the world crashed down. So she broke the silence. "I am sorry." She stopped for a moment, giving him the chance to say something himself, but he refused. "I had better get my things packed and go." She smiled something between evil and sad. "Go find Yourself another wife. A better one. A prettier one." Again, she hesitated. "One You do not have to pretend to admire." She turned. "Forgive me.", was something she did not have wanted to say but the words left her mouth, before she knew it. Nevertheless she moved on to the stairs and up to fetch her trunks.

"Wait." Ithinya barely heard the words but she obeyed, still focusing her eyes on the marble of the steps. "Remember Your words:", he continued, "we have to marry." Why her? Why not another girl? What had her father done… No! She never wanted to know about that! She married whom she was given. Finish. So very slowly she lifted her head to look into his face, a mask of supressed pain. She nodded. "Of course. I am sorry. As You wish, Mylord." Ithinya knew, her behaviour had been inappropriate. Though she had never been the girl with the best manners, she yet had some left to recall on. And she knew her alternatives: None. She was not even beautiful enough to work as a whore.

"Come back." Gar said, still quite quiet. Once more, Ithinya obeyed. Looking into his cold, reserved face, she wondered wether he would hit her. He did not. Actually, not now. A few minutes he did completely nothing but examine her from head to toe. She felt very uneasy.

"I was _not_ mocking You.", he finally said.

_Liar!_, she wanted to shout at him. Even if she had longed to, she could never have believed this. He sighed. "I know that You do not believe me." He came very close, laying his soft hands around her cheeks. And at last he smiled again. Ithinya would have sighed in relief, if her chest had not been busy with too quickly pumping air into her lungs. "How can I prove?", he whispered. Was he expecting an answer? If he were, he would never get one. What could she say? Her mind was racing. Her heart was, too. Gar's emeralds kept looking into her eyes for a few more seconds, and then he let her go and the moment was gone.

And Ithinya still did not know, if he was having some fun with punching the beat out of her heart.

He laughed quietly as he took her hand to lead her back into the dining room. He did not really think she was still hungry, did he? She had not the slightest impression of what he was thinking, to be honest. Without stopping at Ithinya's former place he continued to his own, pushing her softly down onto the chair next to his. Servants brought her clean dishes and loaded them once more with the food which was only a little cooler than before. They began to eat again, this time, Gar's eyes not fixed as concentrated on his plate as before. She could feel his gaze shift to her face several times, always changing between smiling and pensive. Not once did she return his glances – not until she had finally finished her meal. Then she looked up to find him lounging in his chair, playing with the glass in his hands, his eyes again on her, now thoughtful. She sighed, smiling curiously. "Why are You looking at me like that?" He grinned. Oh, no – he would do it again. And he did: "You are beautiful." "Yes. I have heard that before. You have already told me." She frowned deeply. "Now… would You mind telling me, what exactly is _beautiful _about me?" She simply _had _to know this! Gar's eyebrows rose and he shook his head. "I really wonder what You have been told all Your life.", he mumbled. Actually, she wondered the same about him. What she had called him before had hit him so badly, she would never have believed that a prince could be so taken aback by one single silly word. She did not respond to his monologual remark. He was still watching her so intently that a shiver ran down her spine. There were no servants left in the dining room. It was so easy to forget that she was at least five years older than him…

"I will answer Your question, if You answer mine." Now Ithinya's eyebrows rose. What kind of question would he want to ask her? She smiled. "Ask. I will decide, if I answer it afterwards." He chuckled, but immediately went earnest again. "Why do You not believe my words?"

Ithinya stared at him – than she laughed. "Well, is this not obvious, Mylord?" She pointed at her body. He frowned again, looked as if he was going to get angry. She sighed. "All right. My hair is an ugly brown, I am far too fat…" With a sharp movement he cut her off. "No.", he almost snapped. "This is not what I mean." He shook his head. "Why do You believe You are ugly?" Well, this really was a question! She shrugged. "Beacause everbody says so." There was definitely anger in his features now. She wondered why…

"I would have thought You were a little cleverer." His voice sounded disappointed.

Ithinya was suddenly all silence. This conversation was far too personal; far too intimate. She had to stop it.

"Well… Excuse me, Your Highness, but I think, this is none of Your business." She was being rude again. She could not help it now.

To her astonishment, he nodded. "Yes. You think so." This was confusing. "What do You mean?", she asked.

"Now I am answering _Your_ question." He smiled mischievously. "I promised." Ithinya's heart was pounding hard against her chest again, while she did not respond at all. The prince gave up his charmingly lazy position and rose from his chair to bend over her, his hands around her face one more time. As he spoke, a bare whisper escaped his lips: "Your eyes look like a blizzard in autumn. Dangerously fascinating." She had to close her blizzard eyes as he kissed her lids. Her body shivered violently. Gar only smiled. "Your hair is the colour of the oldest tree in the wood, the strongest, the wisest." He ran his long, pale fingers through her hair while he was still speaking those seductive words. Then his voice went even quieter: "Your lips are the colour of a ripe peach." He moved closer. "And the smell of it…" They met, parted one tiny moment later for what Ithinya would have liked to hit him. "And the touch, and the taste." This time he pressed his lips hard to hers, his fingers curled around her neck to hold her near. It would not have been necessary. She could not remember having felt anything like this before. She had never kissed before… He tasted like old wine and young plums. His tongue felt like nothing she could compare it to. Ithinya could not help sighing. His words had been so sweet, so all that she had ever wanted to hear. But his kiss topped them. His kiss was so all she had never even dared to imagine.

And then their lips parted. A sound of protest escaped her and he laughed. "Do You believe me now?", he breathed. Would she regret it if she told him that she would believe anything he told her right now? She would. She said nothing, just smiled. And the prince did her the favour to kiss her again with his passionate, hot, wet lips. As before, he left her to soon. Was she really going to marry this man? Suddenly the thought was all too appealing. "No?" She suddenly realized that he had meant to get an answer. Well – he would not achieve this aim. Gar grinned, let one of his fingers wander down along her neck, over her shoulder, across her chest into her decolleté. His lips followed him to touch her between her breasts. "I could go on.", he whispered. She was not completely sure what exactly he wanted to tell her. Did he mean to tell her more of those poisonous lies, or did he want his lips to explore more of her body. She asked: "Excuse me?" Gar laughed at her. It was a sound so unexpectedly happy, it made her shudder. She smiled warmly. She liked his happiness. "I want to know, if You believe me, little girl." Ithinya creased her forehead and pursed her lips in amusement. "'Little girl'?" His look stayed expectantly what made her sigh heavily. "Yes…", she said slowly, "I believe You that my face is… beautiful which You have demonstrated so… impressively." Her smile was now almost shy. "It felt so…" She found no words. "I had never kissed before…" The speaking voice was not more than an embarassed whisper. The prince seemed taken aback, now appearing to be the one for whom it was hard to believe. "You are lying…", he mumbled, obviously not being able to comprehend what she had said. Ithinya's laugh was lacking humour. "Why do You not believe me?", she teased. "I told You that men do not like me very much."

"But You…" There was a truly worried look around his features when he shook his head. "Girl, You are twenty-seven years old!" As if she did not know this…

Suddenly his eyes widened as he surely realized something she had not wanted him to think about until she was dead. "Dear Barl…", he sighed, but he was smiling warmly again.

Ithinya rose. "I think, it would be a very good idea for me to go to bed now." Not knowing what was really going through his mind and whether he disliked being near her or not, she gave him an apologetically glance for maybe the latter fact would be somewhere near the truth of things. He straightened, his expression completely unreadable. "Good night.", he offered, passing her without another word to return to the book he had laid aside at what seemed a thousand hours ago. He curled himself up onto the couch, within one single minute deeply sunk into his lecture.

Ithinya liked the non-chalance he sometimes put on – just like know: lounging slackly on the sofa, reading the worn out pages. He seemed to have a fancy for books… Without disturbing him furthermore, she crossed the saloon and the entrance hall and climbed the stairs for the third time this day to get to her… residence. Yes, this now sounded like quite an appropriate word for her roomings. Back in the bedroom which lacked the bed, she quickly got rid of her dress, dropped it across the back of a chair and threw herself into the cushion camp, dressed only in white underwear and silken hair bands. Sighing, she stretched, pushing herself deeper into all the soft cloths around her.

She had no idea how long she bathed in silk and velvet, several times almost falling asleep, waking up again to feel happiness rush through her veigns like fresh blood every time she remembered what had happened since she had arrived at the tower. There was a knocking sound which Ithinya first reckoned to come out of her half-dreams, but the pounding repeated and she got a little more conscious. Still somewhere between sleep and wake, she stumbled to the main door of her realm and pulled the handle. Gar smiled a little embarrassed as he saw her fashion. As did she as she recognized him through her weariness. What the hell did he want in the middle of the night? He did not look as if he had been sleeping yet at all. Had he been down there, reading all the time?

"What do You want?", she muttered. Now that he was already here and had already seen most of her ugly body, he could as well tell her, why he was spying at half-naked brides in the darkness.

His smile vanished as completely as his embarrassment. "I was wondering…" He took a step toward her room, not entering it yet, but being near enough for her to see the gleam in the emeralds. "Is it really true that You have never shared the bed with a man in all Your twenty-seven years?" Had that guy drunk too much? "Why would _You_ be interested in that?", she snapped.

Her eyes were not fast enough to watch him slipping through the door which he closed behind him in the same quick movement. The next second she felt his hand at her neck, smelled his breath and longed for his lips. "Because I think, You are in the lack of an experience." If he had thrown her out of the window, the crash with the ground could not have distroyed her more. Within a few words her mind broke into pieces, her body developped longings she had never even heard of and her extremities became independet individuals who folded themselves so closely around the desired body in front of her that she knew, they would kill him.

Ithinya did not know where she was when she heard the velvet voice of a man chuckle. He seemed to have noticed what his words had done to her and – as always – he was quite amused by her reactions. But now, how could he not have been? There was this woman who was six years older than he was and she was ugly and without any proper clothing. And in the middle of the night there came this man to tell her he would like to sleep with her because she had never had sex before. And now she threw herself around him like a child around her father when he comes home from war.

Yes, if she were him, of course she would be amused.

It was not until Gar's firm kiss needed her attention that Ithinya came back from wherever the diverse parts of her conscience had been. The softness he had handled her with down in the dining room was gone and the Doranian now showed his conquerer self. His tongue searched greedily for hers challenging her to fight him back, to touch him, to satisfy him. And she could tell from his sigh that she did. After half a minute, he let go off her again, grinning victoriously. He slipped out of his shirt, his boots and his trousers – thanks, Barl, for the darkness – and went on through her saloon into her bedroom to place his pale body into the mountain of cushions and blankets.

"Was this the reason why this camp was created here?", Ithinya asked as she stopped in the door-frame to watch him. Although he was almost invisible, she could still see how beautiful he was. Or maybe she was just imagining it. Had it been her who had hated him this very afternoon?

He laughed her already favourite laugh: full of amusement. "Do You believe that?"

"I believe anything you say.", she whispered.

He pushed himself into a sitting position again, making an inviting gesture with his forefinger. Ithinya's heart stopped dead at this picture. Nevertheless, she found the strength to obey and slowly moved forward. When she was standing in front of him he moved to kneel before her, his head laid back so he could look into her eyes. There was Prince Gar of Lur kneeling at her feet, a beautiful young Doranian boy whom she should rather sing a lullaby to than sleep with. He was so young… But then, in this case, she appeared to be the child of them. Though, of course, she did not know, if he had already had women… "How much girls have You been with, Mylord?", she breathed.

"A few.", he repeated honestly. "But none of them as special and fascinating as You." If these words had come from any man, she would have started to laugh for their being a little too sentimental. But out of the mouth of the young Prince at her feet, they sounded like temptation itself.

"Please,", he went on, "call me Gar."

While putting his lips to her navel, his soft fingers touched the cloth of her slip and slowly pulled it down her legs. His mouth went down. Ithinya panted heavily, her body shivering like a young tree in a storm. Gar looked up, smiled reassuringly. "Sh…", he whipsered, stroking her hips and thighs as his lips slowly touched her centre of lust and the tip of his tongue entered her. A little, quiet scream escaped her and he laughed. His warm, amused, beloved laugh. The grip of his fingers went tight around her bottom as he pulled her closer, at the same time slipping deeper into her. Again, she dropped a small scream but this time he did not let it disturb him. She knotted her fingers into his long hair, loosening his pony-tail by pulling a little.

When his tongue let go off her, she opened her mouth to protest, but was prevented from doing so by the passion of his rushed kiss. Gar's fingers wandered up along her spine, searching the fastener of her bra to take off her the last bit of silk that parted their skins. Then he hugged her so closely, it suddenly became the greatest of difficulties to simply breathe. His smell lay like a promising mist around her senses, while his lips were still fighting hers. No… not fighting, really. Tempting, seducing…

All of a sudden, she gently pushed him away, gasping for air, smilig excusingly. "We…", she panted, "Gar… We are not married yet…"

He stared at her as if she had hit him right into his beautiful pale face. Then he shook his head, his expression once more one of mischief. "Does not matter to me…", he muttered.

Now this was a way she had not believed him to be. He was a prince. A royal. And he seemed to throw away all rules of courtesy just for a little bed fun… Ithinya did not quite know what to think of _that_ now. But he only grinned. "If You get pregnant over this, no-one will notice the difference of two mere days." Now she was staring at him. "_Pregnant?!?_", she cried, and he winked, amused. "The last thing I want to have from You is a baby." She sounded disgusted, but in a kind, mocking way. He shrugged. "I would not mind."

Ithinya wanted to slam her hand into his smirking face. He seemed to have noticed for he began to laugh again and her anger vanished. "Do not be afraid." His smile got wry as he ran his fingers tenderly through her hair. "I cannot make babies."

Her eyes widened. He could not…? Was not his unability of doing magic enough? Why was this poor man so very beaten with Barl's hatred? She did not reply. She reckoned, he would not want her pitying him.

"Now come on.", he whispered, his voice all passion and temptation. "Let me make love to you." His words made her chuckle for a second, then nod. "Yes. Show me, little prince." He grinned, kissing her possessively, violently pushing his wet tongue into her welcoming mouth. Their bodies were forced together, Ithinya could feel his errection touch her belly and groaned, a little surprised that he really seemed to be attracted by her. He smiled again, almost grinning once more. "I know what You are thinking. I told You, You were beautiful." She startled, looking intently into his emeralds, searching for derision she did not find. He seemed to really mean what he was saying. She reached down, trembling all over, to touch his penis lightly with her fingertips. "I see what you mean.", she breathed, smirking just a little. She could feel his surprise expressed through his eyes as she switched to the informal address. But he also smiled, almost a bit embarrassed by the reaction of his own body which was astonishing, considering that this was not his first tête-á-tête. Grinning once again, he whirled her around and threw her into the cushions, following quickly by landing on top of her and without wasting one more precious moment, he penetrated into her.

Ithinya screamed. She could not help it. Gar smiled reassuringly and bent down to kiss her in the same way. "I will be careful.", he whispered. This time, she believed him immediately. Nevertheless, she was a little afraid. It was so strange a feeling to lie like a child in the arms of a six years younger man. Slowly he began to move, very deliberate to not hurt her. Even though he was so tender, she felt pain cut through her abdomen, forcing tears into her eyes. But she kept smiling, and gradually it stopped aching, changed to quite a good feeling which spread all across her limbs. He must have realized her beginnig to enjoy their encounter and became braver, his movements faster as his pelvis hit hers more and more roughly. Ithinya moaned, gripped his now loosely swirling hair to have something to hold on to. A few drops of sweat had formed on his smooth, bare chest which made him only appear more appealing. He looked at her as if she was the very place he ever wanted to be in. She could read a kind of longing in his features she dared not try to interpret.

And then she had to stop all of her reading and interpreting and thinking for the feeling of his body inside of hers needed her undivided attention. Ecstasy rushed through her veigns, more stunning than the strongest alcohol that could have been brewn by the best of brewers. Ithinya screamed. She did not know, how long she cried – only that she did so too loudly. Gar did not scream. He only gasped and groaned and sighed and looked beautiful. As his still passionate, sweaty face fell onto her chest she ran her trembling fingers through his dishevelled hair, stroked his back, gently scratched his neck.

"Thank You.", she mumbled, still breathless with satisfaction.

He chuckled, almost as exhausted as she was. The touch of his moving lips reached the skin of her breast and she had to laugh a little for herself. Softly his fingers caressed her right side from hip to shoulder, before finally bringing himself to look up again into her tired face. His expression was one of such warmth she really wondered, what she deserved it for. If Ihtinya had ever seen affection in someone's eyes, she might have been able to decide, whether it was now in his or not. But she never had, so she could only guess: She guessed, she was imagining him having any emotion for her – besides desire, naturally. He was rolling down from her as she tried to push away her silly thoughts. Why the hell should a prince like him even look at her twice? She immediately realized that she was fooling herself. Actually, Gar had just slept with her, though he surely had no difficulties at all to recall on every girl in the city he would like to have. This was too strange to think about.

Obviously noticing her little conflict, he pushed himself up onto his elbow into another non-chalant position and looked at her pensively. "I am longing so badly to know what is going through your mind, Ithinya."

She swallowed. Hearing his voice speak her name, made it suddenly sound so much prettier. But there was definitely no answer she could bring herself to give him. So she simply smiled excusingly and sighed deeply and laid his head to her shoulder. Now he seemed to be the young man he actually was. No prince. No seducer. Only a young man, seeking attention, affection – companionship. She had the impression that all he wanted was to not be alone. To have a human being next to him. How very simple. So even a Doranian could feel lonely. But maybe just a Doranian cripple could.

She stroked his forehead, enjoying his contented sigh, his relaxing muscles in the arms she had put around him. As if she needed to protect him. Being the silliest of all the silly thoughts she had already had in her life, this one had to be eliminated without delay. Which was not so very easy, while holding Gar to her chest like a child.

For a long time, they lay perfectly still. Ithinya was happy with just breathing his smell and resting her lips on his pale hair.

"Why did You do this?", she suddenly said, sounding suspicious and curious. He moved his head to take a close look at her grey, a little narrowed eyes. "I already told You, did I not?" She snorted. "Are You telling me, _Prince_, that You bedded me just for the sake of unselfish pity You felt for a poor, ugly, old girl?" She was raging. It simply made no sense! None at all! If he told her, he had wanted to have some fun with a virgin – who was hard to get in the city, from what she knew – she could have accepted that.

But now he was frowning, pushing himself back up into a sitting position to shoot his arrogant glance at her from above. What an effect, little boy! Ithinya was not impressed at all. "Of course, old lady." His voice was dangerously quiet. "I have a fancy for ugly women, You know." He waved his hand once dismissively. "Not so hard to please." Gar stood up, slowly making his way to the door of the bedroom. Though she still did not understand why, she was not quite stupid enough to not realize that she had hurt him. When his fingers reached for the handle, she sat up, too. "I am sorry.", she muttered. In fact, she did not feel sorry, because she had meant every word she had said; she believed them to be true. But her apology made him hesitate and this had been her aim. She watched him, waiting. He did not turn. "It _sickens_ me, how you regard yourself!", he spat at her, so greatly disgusted she shrank back. Then he left, leaving her behind in confusion and fear, and feeling both hatred and admiration for herself as well as for him. She could understand him. Oh, how she also felt sick of herself! Why could she not just take some pleasure which was given to her so willingly? It had been all too obvious that he had not needed to force himself into her bed. He had wanted it at least as much as she had. But her question was not one for his longings but one for his motives. Maybe he knew as nothing as she did. Maybe he had no idea why he had done it.

Ithinya tried to refeel the warmth of his body in her arms, his almost child-like flight into her protecting presence. She could not remember. Laughing humourlessly, she wondered, what the hell anything would ever mean to her, if she was not even able to keep an emotion for only a few minutes. Probably she was not at all able to feel.

This marriage was doomed. Under this circumstances, they were clearly going to avoid each other. Hating each other. Living next to each other in the same tower without ever noticing. How beautiful. How really, very nice: So she was going to spend the rest of her life in lonely royality – like the prince. But this was not fair! He was born for it! Born to be an ascetic? Had she always been so mercilessly selfish?

Preventing herself from thinking about Gar and loneliness and life for the rest of the night, she finally got up and walked over to the wardrobe, picking a black, satin dressing-gown. After all, a cold would not help her very much – unless she died of it which, unfortunately, would hardly happen. Besides the quite demanding night-sport she had gone through, Ithinya was convinced that she was not going to get any more sleep until dawn. So she left her residence. The corridor was even darker than her rooms had been. Her surroundings were completely out of sight, but she refused to go back defiantly. She went on, groping along the cool stone wall which was partially decorated with paintings and blankets. When her hands recognized wood they searched for the handle to open the door she had found. Again, the chamber was not enlighted. She wondered, if Gar had run out of candles. Only a pale touch of the shine of the crescent moon caressed the floor. She seemed to have discovered the library for high shelves were reaching up toward the ceiling, covered all over with what in the darkness looked like books. If she had only had a light! Curiosity drew her closer to the walls, exploring the volumes with her fingers, because her visual abilities were a bit restricted at the moment. Most of the backs she felt were rather worn out, showing signs of high age and much use. So she must have been right about her Gar-and-books theory. He appeared to be obsessed with reading and studying. She wanted to know what all those were about… Well, she would have the time to find out, for the rest of her life. This was going to be her home. What a strange feeling this rised inside of her. Her foot hit the one of an armchair. She cursed loudly, tears of pain springing to her eyes. Sighing, she let herself sink down into the bloody furniture and pulled her legs tight to her body, curling up like a child who was afraid of the darkness. It was not the lack of light that she feared. It was the lack of love. Yes, it still was fear. After all those years she had had to face alone, she could not help still longing for a companion. She had never had one. There had never been anybody to understand her, to hold her, to praise her for anything she had ever done. Never. And after twenty-seven years, was it not really funny to keep being afraid of being lonely? Yeah – how very funny. Cynical again. Now this was the only way she could meet her pain, miserable old girl that she was. Ithinya rested her chin on her knees and looked out of the window. Still, it would take at least three hours, until the sun would finally start to creep above the horizon. Another three hours she had to spend in lonely darkness.

She would have liked to hit herself for her sickening self-pity! How very much she hated this…! Almost as much as the tears that were filling her eyes right now, taking away the rest of her already restricted vision as they dropped down her lashes to roll across her cheeks. She did not know, how long she cried, until she fell asleep against her own expactaions.

When she woke up, the first thing she recognized were her aching muscles. Groaning, she tried to stretch a little out of her folded position. Her mouth was dry and her eyes smarted. Oh, Barl, what was up with her to give in to her emotions and even cry out her stupid heart? Speculations would not help her, she decided, so she stood up, her limbs stiff as the ones of a statue, and turned to the door. But now that she could see the whole beauty of Gar's library, she gasped. So many books! So… marvellous! For a few seconds, she stood completely motionless in the middle of the room and sucked in the little miracle she had found last night. In the end, she had to go, however. It already seemed to be late morning. She really wondered, whether her host was waiting for her, down at the breakfast table. She was not sure. He definitely was a polite man, but then, he also got very angry last night. The only thing which was sure was that she never would find out, if she kept standing in his library. So she left the room and without bothering to dress in something more appropriate, descended the stairs, crossed the saloon and entered the dining room. To her surprise, she was astonished to actually find him sipping a cup of coffee or tea or something, on his plate a book instead of a toast or a croissant or even a little biscuit. She could only hope that this was not his usual breakfast, but she feared it was. He noticed her approach and looked up shortly. Then once again, longer, this time, as he observed her clothing. "Do You think, this is suitable?" He nodded at her in a disgusted gesture. So he was still angry. Right. She deserved it. Her answer was a mere shrug and a cold voice: "It is my home now, is it not, Mylord?" He spoke no-more. So he appeared to be nerved be her, eh? Right. She deserved that as well.

Silently she sat down next to him, where second dishes were waiting to be used. She helped herself to a cup of tea, then leaned back, watching Gar read his book. At least half an hour passed.

"My father wants to meet You this afternoon.", he finally said, without looking up. "All right.", she answered. Silence again. Ithinya took a piece of bread out of a basket, buttered it and ate slowly. Then an apple. "Do You never eat anything for breakfast?" He looked up, his face so bare of emotion, it made her shiver. "That is not very healthy, You know." Was he not even going to try to make conversation? Such a behaviour did not seem to suit the man, she thought, she had got to know yesterday. Where had his manners gone? With a furious bang, his book was slammed shut and his emeralds bored into her rocks. He smiled. Such an ugly smile she felt the need to vomit into it. "So, You finally decided to be nice again? You want a polite conversation?" He stood up. "Sorry, lady. I think, I am the wrong person to talk to." His smirk broadened and he bowed. "I am only here to fuck You." Oh, how glad Ithinya was that once more there were no servants in the room. This was so humiliating, she wanted to sink right through the floor and into hell itself where she obviously belonged. Never would she have thought that Gar could use words of such grand abhorence. When she got back to her sences, he was already leaving the room. Ithinya forced down the urge to curse and shout at him and rose, wrapping herself tightly in black satin. "Gar. Please. I really do not want to marry You like this. Let us… just try to figure out our little argument." He laughed the same ugly way he had smiled before, but fortunately turned and folded his arms in front of his chest. Waiting. She sighed, feeling both relief and fear and took two steps toward him, then stopped again.

"I know, I hurt You last night." She had no patience for tedious paraphrases or something like that. "Maybe… we both were misunderstood." His eyebrow rose. She sighed again, shook her head, a pleading expression on her face. "I just did not understand why You slept with me. I mean, why _me_? Can You not have every girl in the whole city, at least? And Your explanation was that I was a virgin. So what _should_ I think, Mylord?" He stared at her for such a very long time she gave up the hope for getting an answer. But then he spoke. "If _this_ is Your opinion, there _definitely_ has been a misunderstanding!" He came closer, his look no longer as bad as it had been before. "I did not come to You last night, because You were a virgin. Neither was it pity that led me into Your bed. Do You believe I choose women after their experiences? Or that I make love to every girl I feel compassion for?" Now he shook his head. "You are such a fascinating woman, Ithinya. _I_ could not believe it, when You told me that nobody had noticed that fact before." He smiled at her wryly, reaching out a hand to stroke her loosely swirling hair back behind her ear. "I have to admit, I was worried, what kind of girl there might come to marry me. I was surprised, when you arrived. In the most positive way." He even winked at her. It was amazing, how quickly his mood was able to change. "It is far too big a waste to get You married to me." Ithinya startled, blinked – then stared at him, completely confused. "Your Highness?", she asked, not comrehending only a part of the sense his words might bear. Gar shook his head once more. And _he_ told _her_ not to regard herself the way she did? So… what did this man think of _himself_? "You are not as bad as You think. I will not run away." She winked, too, copying his wry smile. "By the way, what options do I have? Nobody is stupid enough to marry me – nobody besides You."

She was sure, she would stay, even if the prince threw her out personally. Not for duty; but for the strange responsibility she suddenly felt for him. Because sometimes, there was a pain in his eyes she knew all too well. Like now. "Do not mind. I do not, either." He sighed heavily, but also forced a smile onto his lips. "All right, old lady." Grinning. Amused. This was better. "Let us get back to breakfast." He took her hand and led her back to her chair, breathing a kiss onto her fingers, before letting go off them. Still wearing an amused relief in his features, he sank down to his own seat, leaning toward her across the table. "And: I usually _do_ eat. I was a bit too upset, though." With his last words, his voice had dropped to barely more than a whisper and Ithinya smiled. "Too much honour for a girl like me, Your Highness." She lifted a finger warningly. "You should think less about me and more about Yourself…" Turning back to her meal, she had no intention to explain herself. He did not ask her to, either.

"So… what is Your father like?", she asked between two bites of toast. Gar grinned. "He is not like me." Ithinya frowned. Although his expression should obviously look happy, she reckoned that his sentences should have gone on with something like the king was better than his son or any similar nonsence. But she answered with a warm smile. "You are unique." It should have been a compliment – he did not appear to understand it as one for his features were clouded with sadness and a painful smile. "I know." The prince's bride rolled her eyes. "I was not pointing at Your _unabilities_, but at Your _abilities_." Grinning broadly, she winked at him. His brows lifted in surprise. "Were You…?" He laughed. "Now… I am _not_ going to ask which abilities _exactly_ You are referring to." Giggling, she stuffed the rest of her toast into her mouth which then was so full, she was no longer able to close it completely – they both burst into laughter; Ithinya nearly suffocating in the process. "_Stop!_", she cried, when she finally had managed to swallow her breakfast, pressing her hands against her aching stomach, gasping for breath. He tried really hard, but he simply could not obey. They chuckled on for what seemed an hour, until they were too exhausted to sit straight.

"I will die, if I marry You!", he said, shaking his head in his hands, still grinning. "Thank You!", she responded sourly. "I rather think, You will have some more fun in Your royal life, little prince!" She stretched her tongue out at him and threw the peel of a nut at him she had just cracked between her fingers. He started giggling again, but then nodded in her direction, grinning mischievously. Confused she looked down her boby to realize that she was almost completely naked from neck to belly for her gown had developped some kind of own life and fled her skin. How understandable. She neither would want to be worn be such an ugly person, if she were a satin cloth. A little embarrassed, she covered herself against Gar's interested looks. "Now, You are a man of good manners!", she snapped. "Stop looking at me, You lewd kid!" Would he keep on laughing at her for the rest of her life now? For he did once again… But finally he sighed and got up. "You should get dressed, anyway. Or do You want to meet my father like that?" She shruged. "Of course." But then she rose and left the room, climbing up the stairs and hurrying into her residence.

Wow. What had this been about? First no talking at all, then arguing, then having the biggest fun in all her life. Their marriage would be interesting. Remembering that she had to do something, she entered her bedroom – oh… that bedroom… – pushed all memories of the previous night away and went directly to the wardrobe. The dress she chose was black and red and looked royal. She also took a dark red, velvet cloak, stopped shortly in the bathroom to wash and fix her hair with an old-fashioned slide, put on her clothes and flew down the stairs again, where Gar was already waiting in the entrance hall. And where he was looking so much more beautiful than her in his diversely green clothing, his hair tied back once more.

"Come on!", he urged as she hestitated to marvel him. She desperately wanted to tell him, how she liked his appearance, but she felt so stupid about it. He must have heard such things so often in his life, she would only earn a sly smile for speaking them out. Outside the tower, a carriage was waiting. They climbed in and quickly drove to the palace. Ithinya had thought, Gar's home was a miracle. Now she was taught better. The home of his father was at least ten times the size of the tower, and the inside was so much more decorated, painted, arched and curved in so many ways she had no expressions for all of them. While the prince's place was of a plain elegance, the king's was as pompous as nothing, she had ever seen before. They were welcomed by a servant and led into a bright winter garden, full of exotic plants and colourful flowers. Borne and his wife sat at a small table of excellent white marble, tea dishes for four persons draped on it. Ithinya dropped a deep curtsey to the king, then to the queen, and smiled self-consiously, when she got up again. Gar also bowed briefly. "Father. Mother. May I introduce my bride: This is Ithinya." "Welcome, young lady!", Borne said, got up and took her hand to greet her warmly. She relaxed a little. At least, he seemed to be as nice and polite as his son. "Please, take a seat.", he offered and sat down again himself.

The afternoon went by with small talk. But although, Ihtinya did not like this sort of conversation in general, she had quite a lot of fun with Gar's family. She even developped a little fancy for Dana, because she was a woman so very easy to like, Ithinya simply could not help it.

On their short way home, she dozed a little in the carriage. After all, she did not get much sleep last night. "What do You think of them?", brought her back to consciousness. She had to concentrate for a moment, before she managed to even grasp Gar's question. "I think, they are likable. Especially Your mother." He chuckled quietly. "Yes, I recognized Your admiring her." So he had been observing her? Suddenly something occurred to her she had almost forgotten. "Gar…" Her voice was low, a bit frightened, a bit _too_ frightened, maybe, for he looked at her with worry. "I… I just wondered…" She took a deep breath. "Will it be tomorrow that our wedding will be celebrated?" He frowned, then nodded. "Yes." Ithinya's feelings trembled somewhere between fear and excitement. What Gar's were like, she did not even dare to guess.

Finally, they reached his tower. As she climbed through the door, he sent the servant away to help her out for himself. She was a little surprised, but thankful for touching the warmth of his fingers which made her stop shivering immediately. They went into the dining room for a brief, silent evening meal. Silent, because none of the two of them spoke only one word throughout their diner. Afterwards, Ithinya excused herself to vanish into her roomings. His also being so very quiet while eating had betrayed him to be as nervous as she was. Wedding, marriage, husband, Gar… She sighed, enlightening the candles behind the coloured glass in her bedroom. What a beautiful sight! All she had encountered here yet, was beautiful. So why was she being so afraid of tomorrow? She got out of her dress, hanged it back into the wardrobe and slipped into a violet nightgown. And then she had the very best idea to distract herself from her pre-wedding blues. She reckoned, Gar would stay down at least a few more hours once more, so she took a candle from the window-sill and patted across the corridor into the library she had discovered last night. Again, it was dark, but her light let her recoginze a bit of the beauty she had seen in the morning. Ithinya walked along the shelves, until she found something interesting – well, most of it was, but she had to deside, had she not? Taking the thick volume with her, she curled up in the armchair she had already occupied the previous night, setting the candle on a small, round mahagony table next to her. Only a few minutes after she had started reading, she had already sunk deep into her lecture. The book was about Doranian magicians and their sorcery. She believed Gar to have many of such ones in his collection for it was not very difficult to see, how badly he longed for those things. It pained him to be different. He regarded himself as worthless. Never would she understand what kind of society people might form who cast out their own kind. She felt the heat of her long kept hatred for the Doranians rush through her veigns with fresh power. These intolerant, stup…

Suddenly the different Doranian sat on the floor in front of her chair. She had not noticed him entering, not even nearing, so absorbed had she been in her internal accusations. "Gar!", she breathed, expressing her astonishment quite clearly in her voice. "Why did You not say anything?" He shrugged. Ihtinya laid the book aside, suddenly realizing that he looked uneasy. "What is it?" He shrugged again. She sighed. How would she know, what he wanted, if he did not talk to her? Shaking her head, she slid down onto the carpet to kneel before him. Her fingers lifted his chin, so she was able to look right into the emeralds. She supressed a gasp. There was so much pain in his eyes, she feared, he would hang himself out of the window immediately. Very unsurely, she laid her hands around his cheeks, moved a little closer. "Gar!", she pressed, "Please… What is it?" The last words she had only whispered. He still did not answer, did not even meet her gaze. She could not stand it any longer. She pulled him very close, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, her fingers stroking soothingly through his hair. To this, he did respond. He burrowed his head at her shoulder, his left hand crushed the cloth of her nightdress. "Sh…", she mumbled into his ear. What the hell was this about? She worried so badly for him, it made her heart ache physically. She did not know, how long she had to just hold him. She simply did, not complaining once, although her limbs went numb and stiff. Finally, he pulled back a little to look into her rocks. "Now", she whispered pleadingly, "will you _please_ tell me, why I am afraid that you will kill yourself in a minute?" His smile was forced and she ran the back of her hand across his cheek, waiting.

"It is… ridiculous." She did not think so for the fear she had just expressed was not ridiculous at all.

"Tell me, anyway.", she demanded.

"I cannot do it." Of course. She smiled understandingly. "I see… Well. It does not matter. I will leave, I…" "_No_!", he interrupted roughly. "What are you talking about, you silly, old woman?! May I first finish, please?" He hesitated, his eyes fixed with hers intensively. "I cannot stay here. I cannot stay the second, the one they laugh at. Oh, how they will laugh at me, when I marry you! Not a Doranian girl and all that…" He shook his head. So this was the point. So she had been so very right about his being non-magical, different – crippled – hurt him more than anything. Had probably hurt him, since he had been a child. Naturally, she would have said, let them laugh. But Gar was a prince. He could not hide in anomity. He would have to return to the public from time to time. And so would she. She imagined hearing giggling voices behind her back, whenever she left the tower. She imagined Gar walking through a crowd with curious, pointing whispers all around him. They would have two reasons to mock and tease and laugh at him.

"You know, you do not have to marry me.", she muttered. He nodded. To her great surprise, this reaction made her heart twist with disappointment – but only for a second, until he said: "But I want to." Her eyes went so wide, she believed the would just fall onto the floor. They did not and she could even feel them begin to sparkle like little diamonds. Was there a man sitting in front of her, saying he _wanted_ her? A few days earlier she would have spit at anybody who would have suspected that there was anyone in the whole world who would ever decide to be with her. What a foolish little child she could be sometimes.

Ithinya had the solution. But she reckoned, he would not like it very much: "Let us go away." Now he was staring at her. "You are crazy.", was his dry response after a few moments. Ithinya grinned. "Maybe I am. But you are, too, if you choose to marry me…" He laughed. Full of happiness – and they both knew, where he belonged. Without one more hesitation, they got to their feet, hurried out of the library, down the stairs and out of the tower – not taking with them anything at all. He did not bother arranging them a carriage. She never would have thought he could be so spontanous. She never would have thought he would flee out of Dorania with her. She could not believe yet that from now on, her loneliness should be gone.

"I hope, you can ride, old lady." He was just bringing two horses out of the stable, closing his hands around her hips to help her up. Another thing, she also never would have thought of, was the fact that anybody in this world would take her body as it was, to touch it as often and as voluntarily as Gar did. "I hope, _you_ can ride, little prince!", she responded, grinning, and slammed her heels into the the horse's flank to make it run out of the city. Gar laughed and followed her, screaming "I love you!" against the wind.

14


End file.
